End Of The World
by Plesiosaur
Summary: Challenge fic! Bubbline zombie apocalypse AU.


**The lovely Silver Blue Eyed Wolf challenged me to write a bubbline zombie apocalypse AU, and I had a lot of downtime at work this morning. So I hope this is what you had a mind?**

 **Content Warning: well it's a zombie apocalypse so dead bodies, obviously, people getting shot and eaten and killed. Also bad language.**

* * *

Finn had always joked that they'd know which one of the walkers was him because he'd still be wearing his damn hat, even after they'd eaten him. He'd laughed when he said it, tugged the ears of his hat for emphasis, grinned widely in his overly enthusiastic way and everyone had laughed too and agreed that being a zombie wearing a silly bear hat was definitely solid gold Finn. It was a thousand times less funny when she was looking down the rifle sights at the shambling corpse that used to be her friend though, hat and all.

"I'm so sorry, Finn."

She murmured it softly as her fingers squeezed the trigger completely without hesitation, because she knew it was what he'd have wanted, what they all would want if and when the walkers got them too. No space left in her heart to feel guilty for it or for any of the others she'd been forced to take out. Too many others. The shot was silenced, a quiet _poc!_ by her ear that she nevertheless knew would haunt her dreams for a very long time. A neat red hole appeared in the centre of the zombie's forehead and he slumped like a marionette with its wires cut. She lowered the sights hurriedly before the herd could descend on their fallen brother; bad enough to have to kill the boy when she'd been so close to him, she didn't to watch him get eaten a second time.

Time to go. Sooner or later they'd stumble up the little wooded hill she was watching from and she didn't want to be there when the rest of the herd was done feeding, Finn was just the starter. Everyone knew that what they really hungered for was warm human flesh and she was still quite attached to hers.

She shouldered the rucksack full of supplies that she'd liberated from the wreckage of the small town their base was nearest to and grabbed her bicycle; it was a pain to have to cycle everywhere but running from the walkers would only make her exhausted when they caught up and ate her and anything with a noisy motor would attract every herd for a hundred miles around; it was dangerous enough just firing a silenced rifle. At least it would be dark soon, walkers couldn't see too well in the dark but she had night vision goggles.

Three miles of hard peddling brought her to the first perimeter fence of the compound just as the final streaks of pale daylight were bleeding from the sky to the west, her six digit security code opened the gate that lead inside the twenty feet high walls of steel and razor wire. They were decorated in places with the remains of walkers who'd been caught in the wire and their security detail had put down. At first she'd found that a grisly sight, it had turned her stomach to see the skewered rows of decomposing body parts and sometimes watch them twitch malevolently, still infectious and dangerous. Eighteen months of seeing them every time she had to risk leaving the base had hardened her against them though; she barely let her gaze flicker their way anymore.

The interior perimeter was basically just a forty feet wide spike-filled pit with more razor wire underneath. The few walkers who'd made it that far were swiftly shot from the lookout tower above the inner gate; their chief of security had absolutely zero sense of humour when it came to keeping the base safe. She was glad of that. There was nobody else in the world she'd have trusted her safety to. A second six digit pin let her into the decontamination room and she immediately began to shrug out of her off-base clothes. They all knew the drill; she didn't even feel a little self-conscious about being naked in front of any of the security staff anymore.

The speakers hanging from one corner of the ceiling flared to life at the same time as the disinfectant jets began to spray her with freezing chemicals from every possible angle.

"State your name and security code, please."

She rolled her eyes, this part was so unnecessary. But she was glad it was that particular voice at least, comforting to be greeted by the person she liked best in the world after the single shot she'd had to fire for their dead friend.

"Come on, Marce. You know it's me, you could probably recite my security code in your sleep."

The speakers didn't relay emotion very well but she was sure she picked up a hint of annoyance in the crackly voice that flickered through over the hiss of the spraying disinfectant.

"Gotta follow rules, Bonnie. State your full name, security code, business outside the complex and a kiss for the camera just because you're an awkward little bitch."

She sighed.

"Fine. Doctor Bonnibel Penelope Sugar, security code five one eight seven three four zero, bringing emergency supplies from outside, and if you want a kiss so badly then you can kiss my skinny pale ass."

"Oh I'm so sorry doctor, your code doesn't appear to be validated and I'm afraid that our medical equipment is indicating that your skinny pale ass is infected with a dangerously high level of sass. We'll have to run a full security screening, might take a while. See, our chief medical officer is out getting supplies right now so we're short on staff."

This time the annoyance was replaced by dark delight and the voice was very nearly a lazy purr.

"Marceline! Come on, I'm freezing my metaphorical balls off in here!" Bonnie yelled, cold and frustrated. She glared at the security camera, adding an exaggerated shiver for good measure.

"Fine, you can come in. But if you're a walker in disguise then I won't hesitate to shoot you right in your pretty face, right?"

The heavy security door at the end of the small room opened to reveal the base's chief of security looking very tempting in her on-duty camouflage uniform, grinning around an armful of fresh clothes and a wonderfully fluffy white towel; a rare luxury in a tightly controlled military complex.

"Come here then, before this towel gets cold. Warmed it up on the heater for you and everything."

Bonnie hurried forwards and let the taller woman wrap her in the enormous warm towel and slide her strong arms around her, holding the heat against her skin and conveniently pulling her within kissing range. It was quite possibly the nicest thing anyone had done for her all year.

"You're such an asshole." Bonnie murmured fondly. She didn't resist when Marceline tilted her chin up and pressed a lingering kiss against her willing lips. "I saw Finn. Fixed it for him." she added quietly after a moment.

"He'd have wanted that. Probably would have laughed about it, he was a weirdo like that." Marcy replied in a light tone, though the hard lines around her eyes gave her guilt away. Finn had been bitten saving her when a supply run had gone wrong, he'd always wanted to be a hero. "Come for a drink tonight then, in his memory?"

"Yeah, sounds good. When do you get off?"

"Usually about when you go the full three knuckles deep and do that awesome twisty thing with your fingers."

"Marceline! That's too distasteful!"

Bonnie punched her shoulder lightly, secretly glad that her girlfriend was back to being crude and dirty instead of brooding over the death of her friend. Marcy stuck her tongue out at the other woman and let her wriggle out of the now damp towel then helped her redress before they entered the base together.

"Listen, I'm on the gate till nine then Billy and Jake are taking over for night watch. You wanna hit up the mess hall or is it a private party?" Marcy murmured as they walked through the stark concrete corridors.

"Private. I can't deal with too many people right now." Bonnie replied. In truth there weren't too many people left, for all their careful security and military organisation they'd lost so many in recent months, the walkers were getting bolder. She couldn't stand to see how few remained.

Marceline nodded, understanding every word the other woman hadn't said.

"Our bunk, then. I'll bring the vodka."

They parted with another tender kiss in front of the medical facility and Bonnie hurried inside, eager to see how her patients were doing.

...

"It hurts."

"I know it does, but your arm isn't there anymore. It's phantom pain."

The dark haired woman clenched her teeth and hissed against it anyway.

"So you're telling me it's all in my head? Well fuck you, too. If I had my hand I'd hit you."

Bonnie ignored her and continued fiddling with the IV drip. Shoko's wound was festering, full of pus, probably that was what was causing the pain but she insisted she was feeling it in the hand that had been amputated. All Bonnie could do for her now was pump her full of antibiotics and morphine and hope they'd been quick enough with the amputation to stop her turning into a walker. The only cure if that happened was the service pistol holstered on Bonnie's left hip. She'd been injured in the same attack they'd lost Finn to, only Marceline's lightening quick hack with her assault knife had given Shoko the slim chance she now had. At least Shoko hadn't resisted the restraints they'd bound her to the bed with; if she turned in the night then she couldn't infect anyone else.

Finally the IV bag began to drip at a steady rate into the tube leading to Shoko's remaining hand. She sighed in relief as the morphine began to take effect.

"Y'know, doc, you're real pretty." Shoko muttered with her eyes half closed. "I coulda been chief of security if I'd known you'd be so damn pretty."

Not a lot Bonnie could say to that; at least Shoko had closed her eyes and couldn't see the blush staining her cheeks. Shoko was a nice girl, very enthusiastic and great with computers, but it wasn't her Bonnie wanted to seek out after yet another frustrating day in the lab failing to find a cure. It wasn't her who warmed Bonnie's bed and filled her dreams with body heat and longing. It didn't matter anyway, the other woman had fallen into a light doze when the medication began to work and Bonnie could creep silently away, telling herself it was just so she didn't disturb her sleeping patients.

Marcy was waiting in the spartan room they shared, already half drunk on whatever had been in the supply bag Bonnie had brought back with her. She raised her glass in salute when the doctor entered.

"Hey, there's my girl! Me an' Finn were beginning to worry about where you'd gotten to."

She indicated the pillow she'd stuffed into one of the dead man's shirts and drawn a lop-sided grinning face onto. It was their weird ritual at the base; when someone died you made an effigy of them and took it for a drink. The store cupboard was starting to run out of pillows.

"Yo, looking good, Pillow Finn." she said, playing along because she didn't want to deal with the genuine heartbreak that stepping outside the rules of the game would cause for both of them.

"Hullo, Bonnibel! You look so hot today! I'm gonna pursue you relentlessly, even though I know you're super gay and think penises are hella gross! Because I'm optimistic and full of unbreakable enthusiasm! Yay!" Marcy continued in her best impression of Finn's excitable tones.

They both laughed, even if it was a little brittle, and Bonnie let the other woman hand her a drink. She'd have preferred scotch or bourbon but shockingly she hadn't been too concerned with what type of alcohol she'd been grabbing on her supply trip, she'd just filled a bag with whatever there was leftover room for after she'd raided the derelict pharmacy for medical supplies.

They drank until late, sharing stories about Finn and the times they'd spent with him and his brother Jake. It was comforting to let the alcohol wash away the stresses they'd accumulated through the dismal daylight hours. They both preferred the nights, always had.

"I killed someone, y'know." Bonnie told Marcy very drunkenly hours later. Her head lolled against the other woman's bicep and she squeezed her eyes shut to stop the room spinning at the sudden motion.

"Who? Finn? I know, you did what he woulda wanted." Marcy replied with a light frown.

"Nah, not Finn. The first time I killed someone. He wasn't even infected, didn't want him to get bitten."

"Who'd you kill?" Marcy asked, curious.

"My twin brother. He was born badly brain damaged, he couldn't really talk or anything. An' when the walkers came an' they killed our Mom an' I knew they'd get Neddy too, I couldn't let them do that. He was innocent, he didn't even have a chance. I overdosed his sleeping pills, let him curl up in my arms and drift away. He didn't feel a thing. I really fucking miss him."

"Y'did the right thing." Marcy nodded sagely. "I'd have done the same."

Bonnie didn't reply, instead she leaned in and kissed the taller woman full on the mouth, not resisting at all when she felt hands sliding up under her shirt to caress the soft fullness of her chest. They'd lost too many people and now Finn was gone too, more than anything Bonnie needed to feel alive.

...

 _Without any warning at all the door banged open and it wasn't Jake or Billy, any of the survivors. It was Shoko. Her dead eyes stared unseeing and when she opened her mouth all that came out was a tortured groan. Her one remaining hand groped blindly forwards towards the two women curled together on the bed._

 _Bonnie wanted to tell Marcy not be a hero but that was what she was there for, she was security. There was a walker inside the facility so she had to deal with it. The pistol was still in its holster on the floor amid the pile of their discarded clothes and Marcy lunged for it while Bonnie screamed, unable to move past the crippling fear now dragging against her limbs._

 _Shoko was fast, for a dead girl. Marcy was fast too, rolling forwards out of the bed and grabbing the pistol, bringing it to bear, aiming between the walker's eyes, squeezing the trigger-_

 _Nothing happened. Bonnie had left the safety on. She screamed again a moment later when Shoko's teeth pushed mercilessly through the soft caramel coloured skin of Marceline's forearm, screamed in horror and impotent terror for her lover. Marcy screamed too and beat the walker with the butt of the pistol, again and again until she dropped to the ground, dazed. With a sickening crunch Marceline slammed Shoko's head hard in the heavy metal door of their room and the walker twitched once then lay still, infected brain destroyed._

 _"I'm bitten." Marcy sobbed, staring at her bloody arm. "She fucking bit me, I'm fucking dead."_

 _She dropped to the floor and sobbed, curling around the damaged arm. Bonnie found she could move again and came forwards, crouching before her lover on the cold concrete._

 _"Come on, let me see. We can take the arm off, stop it spreading, save-"_

 _"No. It didn't work for Shoko, it won't work for me. All it does is slow the virus, make the turning more painful. And without my arm I'm useless, I can't work security, I'm just a drain on our resources. No."_

 _Marcy's voice was strong as steel despite the shocked tears flowing freely down her face. The virus spread fast if the bitten body part wasn't immediately amputated, already she was beginning to sweat with the first waves of a growing fever that confirmed beyond doubt that she was infected._

 _"Marcy..." Bonnie sobbed brokenly._

 _"Please, Bon." Marceline begged between sharp gasps. Waves of pain were already beginning to rock through her, the virus was shutting down her internal organs. She probably only had a couple of minutes before cardiac arrest and a couple more after that before she was walking and biting, infectious. "You know I'd do it for you if I had to. Please."_

 _She fumbled the pistol into Bonnie's hands, shaking badly as she flicked the safety off._

 _It cost Bonnie every bit of resolve she had, but she raised the gun to her lover's forehead. Distantly she was proud that her hands didn't shake. Marceline leaned forwards against it, letting the cool metal rim of the muzzle press against her fevered skin._

 _"Please." she murmured again._

 _Bonnie held her breath and pulled the trigger._

 _..._

She woke with a strangled scream, shaking all over. The room was dark and the body next to hers warm and so wonderfully alive, she flung herself across Marceline and hugged her close in relief.

"Hgnr, what the fuck, Bon? What time is it?"

"I had a nightmare you were infected and I had to shoot you, just shut up and let me have this." Bonnie mumbled against her shoulder.

"Wishful thinking, nerd?" Marcy teased her quietly, nevertheless wrapping her arms around Bonnie's slender frame and hugging her back.

"I never told you." Bonnie replied in a deadly serious tone. Marceline felt her smile fade, that sounded slightly ominous.

"Never told me what?" she asked carefully after a tense moment.

"That this was always so much more than just fucking for me, right from the start. That I love you. That I'm _in love_ with you,"

"There's a difference?" Marceline asked with the ghost of her old humour back in her voice. Bonnie frowned, unwilling to let the other woman laugh it off when she was sharing something so deeply personal. Marceline was terrible at talking about her feelings and Bonnie got that, but this was too important to ignore or soften with humour.

"Yeah, there's a big difference. I love ribs and barbecue sauce but you don't see me sharing a bed with a plateful of them, petting their lovely hair, keeping them safe. Seriously, you're the only thing in this fucked up world worth staying alive for. If you get bitten and I have to put you out of your misery then the next bullet is for me. Marcy, I'm trying to tell you I'm fucking _in love with you._ Ok? Please don't be an asshole about it."

Bonnie heard her lover let out a long deep breath in the darkness, not quite a sigh but not far off. Maybe she'd screwed everything up, maybe she'd made it weird by breaking their unspoken rule of not talking about their feelings. She didn't care; she'd been feeling it for months and suddenly it was too big to keep secret anymore. She might die at any hour of any day, she needed to say it out loud.

"It's more than just fucking for me too. I'm in love with you too, Bon." Marcy replied quietly after a tense minute that stretched awkwardly between them. "If I had to put you out of your misery then the next bullet would be for me, too. Agreed?"

Everything had gotten so fucked up, Bonnie thought. Who could say how many walkers were out there, how long they had left, how close to developing a working cure she was. In that crazy fucked up world a suicide pact was the most romantic thing she'd ever heard, it was weirdly comforting. Whatever terrible end she was facing it would never be alone. She kissed Marceline deeply for a long minute and then lay back down next to her, allowing herself to be wrapped back into those gloriously warm and unbitten arms.

"I'm in love with you." she mumbled again, just because she could.

"Mmm, in love with you too. Also I'm hungover as hell, please let me sleep."

Bonnie lay awake in the quiet darkness of their bunker and listened to Marceline breathe slow and deep as she slipped back into unconsciousness, feeling the steady thrum of the other woman's pulse against the hand she placed carefully across her chest. She wasn't ready to go back to sleep yet, she needed a few minutes to absorb the enormity of the beautiful secret they'd just shared. If the world hadn't ended she'd never have met Marceline, wouldn't be lying there in her arms. It was a terrible and selfish thing to think but in a way she was glad. She'd never known that kind of deeply contented happiness until the end of the world.


End file.
